Torchwood 7: Broken Bridges
by Tigerdust
Summary: John Tripp returns from Italy with a crew he calls TW4. But why is he back and what's with all the bloody vampires? Rated for various splashes of gore, sex, and the stuff that keeps us all going I mean Ianto's coffee!
1. Chapter 1

Creator's Note: John Tripp is back, folks! He's the only one I own (although we all know that) and this is a sequel to One Dangerous Gentleman (you should read that, though this could stand alone...I suppose). I'm trying to be accurate in time-line (well, as much as I can be) and that means there is no Tosh or Owen. This saddens me, but it was a choice. There's also a bit of a crossover here with Buffy, Heroes, and Oz (just think of me casting a gem like that!). It took me a while to decide the other players, but it was worth waiting for. I think we'll all agree.

--On With the Show!--

Who else would ask how beautiful the sunset is to you? She turned and shook her head, long ringlets of black hair flowing in a slight wind. The car was warm beneath them. John had borrowed the Jeep for the day, taking his emergency cell phone just in case. This was the way of his life now; ever since Darius had gone for good.

John Tripp hadn't been left with too big a whole, but he needed constructive things to do. He had no problem holding a job, but most bored him significantly more than a normal person would admit. John supposed being touched by Torchwood did that to a person. They just never seemed to return to normal afterwards, not that John had ever felt normal.

The woman sitting next to him was his partner, Nicoletta, and it was she who gained his trust and confession. It was with her that he chose to watch the sunset and hear the crashing billows of waves beneath the cliff they were parked at the edge of. Nicoletta did not hear much, but she understood. Few words ever passed between the two. The only words she ever heard were over a keyboard or in her mind. Nicoletta was deaf. And John discovered he was an empath.

It was late summer in Italy, the heat never quite billowing through on the coast. Nicoletta watched with mild interest as some flowers were captured by the wind and floated by. The reflection of the unabashed joy of her smile warmed John more than the sun ever could have. She was taller by half a foot than him and he might never tan, but they were happy. Her head rested against his, watching the movement of his fingers as he told her the sunset lacked the glory which she created in his heart.

The cell phone beeped. Without curse or thought, they slid off of the car and she plugged the coordinates from the phone into the Jeep. The car moved back towards the Vatican and the underground base of the renegade Torchwood Four, no actual affiliation with Torchwood known.

In Cardiff, it was a much different story. There was rain and smog clinging to the dense night that descended upon them. It wasn't the same day, but the same mission that compelled worlds to collide once again. John Tripp wasn't ever sure he would see the roads and the factories again. His heart didn't ache, although the city retained plenty of its Welsh charm, but John Tripp didn't care for the city. Torchwood Three was his goal.

Voices talked behind him as he drove, and he fought to collect himself and to focus on his object. To find Jack Harkness before it was too late, yet again. "Calm down!" John growled at his team in annoyance; shifting forward on the gas.

Jack was unaware of the current movements of John Tripp. Torchwood Three was hovering over an intense stationary Rift spike that had finally given enough of a defined coordinate pattern to track. Without Tosh to define the parameters, Jack, Gwen, and Ianto had been forced to wait as the computer was updated and various hit and miss searches occurred using a manual she had left behind. Ianto himself wasn't fond of thinking she had done that "just in case." But it was just as well.

Muffled voices moved through the night in the building. They were odd and stationary, much like the object that had fallen through the Rift. Jack's feet walked swiftly with Ianto at one side and Gwen around the other end of the factory. None were thrilled with the splitting up, but Gwen had long ago stopped objecting to Ianto being at his side. Jack mentally made a note to get on with hiring new staff, no matter how much he internally objected to it.

Jack forced two beeps with his comm, tapping the temples of his forehead, and he could hear Gwen's rebuttal beep. One beep meant no door, three beeps meant another door. His beep was a check-in. Ianto's beep followed after the silence of a minute. Jack snorted at himself, disappointed. More time would have meant a better check of the schematics. Ianto broke the silence.

"Jack, I hear singing from my window. Maybe you should knock?"

Gwen's voice broke through. "This isn't a love in, Ianto. There's something in there!"

"Yes, but, we aren't sure it's a weapon. Who's to say it's not some alien soprano who's broken through the rift and just happened to be practicing scales?"

One the perpetual optimist and the other perpetually paranoid; Jack rolled his eyes. "I'm knocking on the door."

Several seconds followed his attentive rap on the metal frame. A thin piece of the door slid back, bulging eyes coming wearily through, concentrating on Jack. "Password?"

"Captain Jack Harkness."

"Never heard of him."

The slat moved backwards in annoyance. "Well, that was rude." Jack knocked again. This time the door swung open.

"Do you have the right password?!" The voice was thick, like the gentleman, and full of growling.

"Captain Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood Three." Jack struck a heroic pose with a charming smile. "Not even a little grin? No recognition at all?"

"Get out of here before I fling you into the next century." The giant man trembled just briefly, a shudder that began from his left arm and extended further and further until he fell down.

"I didn't even get to use my trademark charm on him."

Ianto put his stun gun back into the inner pocket of his coat. "Pity for him, then, wasn't it?"

The trio stepped inside the door and Gwen gasped at what she was seeing. "Jack, I'm pretty sure this was not an alien Mozart thing."

"I'm beginning to think Mozart himself might have been from another world."

"You've watched Amadeus too many times."

"But I thought we agreed we liked that movie?"

"Fellas!"

Gwen's gun was trained on a shape in the corner. It was a man, but a very strange man. His face was pale and several deep gouges crossed it, giving him the look of a feral wolf with bared teeth. The group watched as he drained the blood, quite messily, from a small blond woman.

Great, Jack thought, vampires in Cardiff. What a night. He fired a warning shot, but the vampire finished in time and moved swiftly to the top of the corner. He jumped around quite a few times, avoiding different bullets from the gun before landing inches away from Gwen.

"There are a lot worse things I can do than kill you if you don't move away from her." Jack's nostrils flared, demanding the villain's attention.

"Are you sure you won't miss?" The vampire's voice was androgynous, a pairing of male and female chords, possibly a man of two minds.

"I've had lots of practice."

"Bet I can drain her before that. But it's not as fun if they struggle. Of course, I haven't had one struggle in quite a long time."

"Who, who are you?" Gwen's voice quivered just a little.

"Oh, that's not important. Nor is that the question you really want to ask. But, they used to call me Dalthon."

"Well, Dalthon, mind telling us how you came across this little gem you're using to hypnotize people?"

"Oh, it doesn't hypnotize them. They come to me freely. The destitute and the morally poor. The alcoholic and the drug abuser. I give them a way out and then I feed from them. They will all tell you they comply."

"You mean through this thing?" Ianto's voice called from the stage. On a platform that reminded Ianto of a place where his mum used to set art, in the days when she could still paint, was a shell. It looked almost like any ordinary shell you might pick up on a beach except it glowed bright irridescent white and yellow and looked as thought it attached itself to "devout followers". That, and a high alto pitch that descended from it.

The vampire was half a second too late. "Don't touch that!"

The spiraled jewel was fragile. One blast from Ianto's stun gun shot it across the room several times where it shattered. People began to fall, staggering and blinking, some screaming blindly and others running. The vampire glared as the last "follower" exited the warehouse.

"You lost my meal, you little peon!" The vampire moved quicker up to Ianto than he had fallen next to Gwen.

Jack's shots were accurate enough that a pair of fingers came off with each stroke that tried to move near Ianto's face or body. Dalthon howled in pain each time, but moved with fury and adrenaline. Ianto didn't risk moving and ruining Jack and Gwen's shots. Each reloaded a clip while Ianto retained a morbid fascination with Dalthon trying to come near him and being shot down each time.

"Give it a name before we shoot him, Ianto?"

"How about Singing Shell?"

Jack shrugged as Gwen put a single bullet through the back of the vampire, leaving him stunned inches from Ianto. He turned and faced Gwen again, a smirk on her face.

"Some damsel in distress you are, Gwen."

"You think I was just going to let him drain me?"

Jack paused. "It's called dramatic effect, Gwen!"

"Can we get back to the part where you all cower in fear of my greatness?"

"Yadda, yadda, yah. After you've faced Abbadon and the Master, the rest of you seem like small time crooks."

"You've met Abbadon?!"

Gwen looked at Jack, who declined comment.

The rumbled began beneath their feet. The sound of music edged in next and a spotlight shown through the open door. Dalthon gaped and suddenly Jack and Gwen felt a rush of air as a rocket moved past them, aimed at the vampire. The wall behind Ianto dissolved into pieces while the wall where the door had been was crashed through thoroughly.

"Did I get him?" A voice called through the clouds of cement and dust, a wave of red causing Jack to blink. "Well praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!" His face was dirty, but white teeth and red hair, and a fetching goatee from Jack's point of view, insured that Jack recognized him.

John Tripp hung from outside of his window over a modified AT-4 on his side of the Torchwood Four Jeep. He undid the latch and it swung back into the undercarriage while he unlocked his door and jumped down from the cab to hug a stunned Jack Harkness.

"Didn't I say I'd come back and check up every now and then?"

"John!"

"Ianto! What in the devil are you doing on that platform? Get over here and give me a hug!"

"Read any good books lately?"

"Of course, Gwen, of course. I just picked up a copy of the Federalist Papers and my collection is growing at a monthly rate."

Hugs and murmurs of joy flew around the small group. "Where is Toshiko and Owen? Vampires not good enough for them?"

The silence told John everything he needed to know. He managed to mutter a small sound, but turned his eyes down, away from Jack.

"She would be glad to know you're doing well." Ianto broke the silence first. "So, what brings you back to Cardiff?"

"Dalthon."

"You know him?!"

"Well, it would be past tense, and secondly there is quite a bit to explain. You see, I've been busy while I was on vacation." The horn blew from the car. "Get out here! I want you to meet the people that made me who I am today!"

A man with blond hair and most of an ashen beard crawled from the same side of the cab as John. He reminded Ianto of a werewolf and his grin was very wolf-like as well. His blond hair was thinning, but Jack was sure he wasn't past 35 quite yet. He was tall and muscular, rather gruff in manners, but stood comfortably with John Tripp. "Jack, Ianto, Gwen. This is Tobias Beecher. He works for me." He reached for Jack's hand.

Two other men jumped down from the side nearest the wall. They leaned in close to each other, the taller of the two appraising the group. "Peter Petrelli and Xander Harris, my medic and cultural information and weapons expert!" The two men with dark hair stood together, in front of the Jeep with the extended grill, for use as a battering ram.

"And of course, behind the wheel is my resident techie Nicoletta." Gwen waved at the tan woman still sitting in the front seat.

"I think you should probably explain John."

"Yeah, but how about some coffee first? I've brought you guys biscotti all the way from Italy!"

"I've forgotten how much I missed you."


	2. Chapter 2

John looked directly at Jack through his tumbler of vodka, the beads of sweat from his No Fear Cranberry collapsing in little heaps upon his coaster. Half under Ianto's assistance and the other half being that he didn't want to mess up the sparkly feel of the glass table with papers spread all about it. He remembered, with a wry grin, the last time he had sat in this room. Looking around, he realized how different the place felt. How alone it felt.

Ianto, of course, was off making coffee and Toby, was, well Toby was around. He always seemed to disappear and reappear with the skill of a house cat, coming back whenever he pleased or knew he was needed. He was efficient when he needed to be, rough when he needed, and sent tingles down John's spine. Not Captain Jack or Ianto Jones' tingles, but tingles nonetheless.

Ianto heard the cracking of John's new favorite energy drink top and smiled, knowing he didn't have to tell him about the coaster rule. The laughter came in waves, it was so easy. The Hub had felt too silent and Ianto smiled in spite of himself. He readjusted his tie as he worked, making coffees just so for everyone except John and the mysterious wolf man Toby, whom had probably gone off into Cardiff. John wasn't worried and neither was Ianto, for that matter.

Ianto returned with a full tray to much over-trumped hurrahs. He suspected something and the moment he set down his tray, he got it. A static charge courtesy of Peter Petrelli.

"And that's why we call him the Human Respirator." Xander focused on messing up Peter's hair just momentarily.

"All in good fun, of course." Peter didn't return the favor, just shot Xander a look of burning embers. John knew that look. They'd be staying out tonight.

"Okay, it's all fun and games for a laugh, but tell us about this Dalthon character, John. You seem to know quite a bit."

"In all honesty I do. Too much, but I think it's more Xander's story to tell."

"I require a white board and four green dry erase markers."

"I'm on it." Ianto was halfway across the threshold when Jack growled.

"Get back here, Ianto. He's just bullocking you."

"Oh, sir, only you do that well."

"He's right. I need two red dry erase markers and two green."

"Xander, stop it. Only I can yank Ianto's chain like that." Ianto found himself drawn back to John's side, John's arms bringing him to a sitting position on his lap.

"Careful, John. We'd best not give Jack too many ideas."

"Oh, we're so far beyond that now, it's not even funny." Ianto coughed as he noticed the tint in Jack's eyes change. He wasn't sure if it was jealousy or sexual appetite, but he also wasn't sure he wanted to find out which.

"You know, not that I don't love a good round of boy on boy innuendo, but we do have a case to get back to, don't we?"

"Quite right, Gwen, was it?"

"Yes."

Xander waited a bit while Gwen's eyes focused on him and he rubbed his hands. "Well, I guess my story starts out with Peter. We were, ummm, honeymooning I suppose. Yes, we were honeymooning in Italy. Unfortunately, the demon world didn't get the memo. They have rubbish secretaries in the demon world. Did anyone else read the Screw tape Letters? Even worse postage in the demon world."

John watched Nicoletta's hands fly. "Yes, I quite agree. Get on with it, man! Sometime before I finish my drink!" She blushed just a bit as John's fist hit the table in mock anger.

"Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted. Hey, who threw that napkin at me?" Jack whistled and winked at John as Xander watched the napkin fly to the ground. "Peter and I were in Italy and we found ourselves sightseeing right into the midst of a vampire nest. Lots of fledglings, very stupid ones in fact with tacky accents. Most likely tourists and hostel jumpers. Well, that's where we meet Mr. Tripp over here. The all-American boy scout save the girl hero. Apparently, he and Nicoletta had been moonlighting as a pair of crime fighters."

"Oi! I recruited you! Tell the story with more of me in it!"

"I most certainly will not. Anyways, so I get sent out as cannon fodder, " John coughed "willingly" in the midst of the pause for breath, " and I find out John's is following my aura with his telepathic ability. Apparently I have a very distinct aura."

"Well you do. It's your own bloody fault too, fighting on the Hell mouth. And how many times must I tell you, empath, not telepath!"

Ianto gasped. "Cleveland?"

"No, Sunnydale. Heard of us?"

"I met Mr. Giles once, during a training session for A-Levels. He was Buffy's Watcher."

"How did you...?"

"Unlimited access. Torchwood, remember?" John and Xander locked eyes with Ianto instantly. "I think I should go check the heat. The room's getting rather warm."

"That's okay, Ianto. I can always help you take off the tie."

"No thanks, sir. If I remember, that's your favorite part."

"Fellas! Can we please concentrate on something other than kinky sex for one nanosecond?"

"What else is there?"

The room erupted in laughter once again.

John, of course, had been right about Peter and Xander. They left shortly before Nicoletta, who was invited to stay with Gwen. She didn't want her to be left at our mercy, the rambunctious boys she called us. It was all very well and good. I was beginning to drift off at the couch when I felt Ianto beginning to hover near me.

"You know, John, it's not polite to go peeking round people's auras like that."

"It's easier than opening my eyes. How'd you know?"

"I know everything."

"Of course you do. Want me to move my feet?"

"Unless you don't want a nightcap." John's feet moved instantly. "It's good to see you again, John. After Tosh and Owen, the place felt so empty and lost. You've done us a bit of good."

"Don't thank me quite yet."

"You didn't tell us much about why you are actually here."

"Let's just say, I know almost as much as you."

"That's not very encouraging."

"Tomorrow's a new day, Ianto. New light to shed and whatnot."

"Anything you can tell me?"

"Dalthon was a tool, a cheap lackey. I worry about his sister, Dempsey more. And the head honcho of it all, we're not even sure of his name. Evan something or other. It's bad, Ianto. People were just disappearing left and right."

"You threw yourself into your work, didn't you?"

"Torchwood is as Torchwood does." John shrugged.

Ianto gave his knee a quick squeeze. "Get some rest John, I have a feeling we'll all need it."

"What about you?"

Ianto blushed. "I'm staying here tonight. Will you be on the couch?"

"Unless I have an invitation elsewhere, I might just kick off my shoes and surf a while right here."

"Well, I don't know about a lack of shoes, but, if you need a blanket, we have an extra down there."

"Does he treat you well, Ianto?"

"As well as can be expected."

"You don't love him, do you?"

"I do. And I believe he feels the same. But we all know that love is only the emotion that helps us dig deeper, don't we?"

"I forgot how much I missed you, Ianto."

"Let's not get too sentimental. We've got monsters to catch. See you bright and early!"

"Of course, Ianto. Tell the Captain I wish him an eventful night!"

He could hear Ianto's snickers echo into the bunker that was Captain Jack Harkness' bedroom. John sighed and drifted off to sleep, trying hard not to concentrate on the echoes he heard below him. Or even wishing he was there.

John fell off the couch with aplomb as Gwen and Nicoletta were chatting back and forth, or rather, signing back and forth and walking briskly. Gwen turned on several monitors as Nicoletta addressed a slightly disheveled John and the alarms died down as the rolling door moved back.

"Okay, okay. Calm down. I can't understand when you're stuttering like that. No, she did? Tosh was brilliant, I'd agree. You think that will help? If they'll let us." Gwen received a beaming look from John as he hovered.

"This isn't just for you, you know."

"I'd kiss you if I wasn't in love with someone else."

"I know. I get that a lot."

"Good morning! John, couch hair."

"Hey! You let Jack get away with bed head all day long!"

"He looks roguish with it. You just look messy."

"I could do a Mohawk."

"You'd best have some coffee before you start talking of Mohawks."

"Already done." John turned as Toby walked past the rolling door bearing two raspberry filled donuts and two steaming coffees. "Just the way you like it, too."

"You spoil me, Toby." John's hand lingered over his and Toby's eyebrow raised.

"I'm too old for you, you know."

"Too old for a wrestling match, later?"

"You're so on, young'un. I'll give you mat burns you'll feel for a year."

Ianto coughed. "Not needing my coffee, then?"

"Perish the thought, Ianto!"

"Good morning, Captain!"

"Good morning to you, John! I'll take his coffee if he's had other, although not better, offers."

"I take offense to that. I'll have you know I was the prison barista."

"I wouldn't say that too loud, Toby. And I thought you were the resident techie."

"I was a man of many talents, thanks so much. It just so happened that after the anthrax scare I acquired a few other skills."

"Hired yourself an ex-con?"

"Don't sound so excited Captain. This one's mine." John laughed and Jack noticed Toby's raised eyebrow. "Anyways, Nicoletta is running a program with the help of the Torchwood computers. Gwen thought we might borrow some of your technology to amplify our own help. Get this little game played a bit faster."

"Does this game have a name by any chance?"

"Mousetrap."


	3. Chapter 3

John's cell phone began to buzz. "Does anyone else hear "Hotel California?"

"It's my ring tone, Jack!"

"Just checking."

"Yes. Hey, Xander! What's up?" Nicoletta rushed over with a print in her hand while John sat on Owen's old desk, one leg swinging free and the other tucked against his knee. He moved the phone and cradled it with his shoulder while reading the printout. "Are you sure you don't need back-up? Of course. I'll watch out for you. You'll probably find her. I'm not sure. We're doing the cross-reference for the numbers from the technology here. So much faster than the Bat-cave. No, I'll talk to you soon then. Lunch? Maybe. Yeah, talk to you and Peter later. Bye."

"Well, what is it?"

Jack and Ianto were gathered around John, Gwen eavesdropping from behind. "Okay, an interfaith fair is going on in Cardiff this weekend, which explains what Dalthon was doing here and Xander believes we might catch a glimpse of Dempsey's flunkies or possibly Dempsey herself. The thing is, according to this fax, that there are four items of chaos we need to watch out for. Just don't tell Xander, he'll make a Sonic wisecrack."

Jack nodded back at John, and John realized that it had already filtered through Jack's head, no doubt. Ianto was the one with the six-year old cousin that idolized Jack, if John remembered correctly. He'd been keeping good recon on Torchwood Three.

"Anyways, Ianto has destroyed the first of these four items. Thing about it is, we're not sure the shape of these four items. The only thing we know is that each item possesses a power to take something from the willing. And who'd be more willing than a cult member?"

"You've gotten us tangled with vampire cults?"

"For lack of a better term yes. I wouldn't worry about most of this, I've only got information on three of the gems yet. It's the hands it gets into I worry about. Dempsey was wiser than her brother and there are two yet to come that I know of. Two of the oldest Italian vampires, rank up there with William and Angel."

"Do we have names for them?"

"Gwen, they've changed names more times then I care to count. If they're leading vampire cults, no doubt they have assumed identities. All we can hope is that Dempsey can help us find these other cults. Or we might have to send operatives."

"That's risky."

"Don't I know it. Hell on the empathetic nerves as well. What? You don't think I'd just let Xander walk into a place like that unprotected, do you?"

"I don't know what to think right now!" Jack threw his hands up and walked off.

"So, what does this entail exactly?"

"Well, most people think reading auras involves mirrors and mediation. They're half right. Most aura readers use parlor tricks or facial clues. Darius chose me because of my natural empathetic abilities and that I'd do it without noticing myself. I always would know a liar or a change in another. Usually, it began with the eyes." John coughed and allowed Ianto to take a seat before he continued on.

"In any case, what happens is that my aura can travel along with another that I choose. Since Xander's is so distinct and he easily adapts and fits in, the man is an improv genius if you ask me, I generally follow him and block the others out as best I can. Usually, a vampire or a corpse won't have one and demons and angels have supernaturals ones that differ from human."

"That's quite a load of information to dig up."

"Yes, and what's worse, is that the attached prophecy scares me because these weapon gems seem to feed on willing auras. That's why I believe that these vampire cult leaders are even more dangerous and we must destroy them, Ianto. I couldn't let this one go."

"No one blames you for that. In fact, it's been quite helpful to us knowing all this." John's head flicked around briefly and offered Gwen a smiled as she rummaged for a working pen to finish her notes.

"Teach me, John." Ianto's eyes pleaded.

"Not everyone has the gift, Ianto."

"Well, we won't know until we find out."

"Alright, but are you sure you want to sit on the desk?"

"That's how you do it?"

"Yes."

"Options and seating is limited then, isn't it?"

"Afraid so." John caught a glance of Jack watching Ianto climb up onto the desk and achieve a sitting position like John's. He hoped the Captain wasn't angry at him, it wasn't his fault, not exactly. In fact, the Captain being angry like that was something new for John and it worried him. He'd have to ask him about it later.

"Do I have the sitting position right?"

"Perfect Ianto. Who knew you were so flexible?" Gwen's coughing did not dissuade Ianto. He was so intent, he didn't even blush.

"What's next?"

"Well, that's just the thing. You have to be able to clear your mind. This is the part that is like meditation. I don't really know how to explain it. But if I hear snoring, I'll roll you off the desk."

Ianto gave a half-hearted laugh and watched John as he closed his eyes. In John's mind, he lit a candle into the darkness. The wisps of smoke reminded him of passion-fruit, the first scented candle he had used in this journey. It was comfort, a wonderful comfort as he began to feel himself lifting.

It was half like astral projection and he could feel Ianto trying. He smiled, knowing that Ianto's gift did lie elsewhere, but bonus points for trying then.

"I'll go make you some more coffee. Keep you from snoring."

"Thanks, Ianto. You're a champ."

"I know, John. I know."

John took control of his gift and felt himself gliding over the city, a red cloud of death and black expectation nearly suffocating his white aura. He flew by the roofs, keeping low and away from the dark smog that surrounded Cardiff. John suspected the Rift itself and the carnage from Hart and Grey, mostly Grey. John didn't blame them at all for those feeling. The Welsh were survivors. No one said they couldn't hold a grudge.

_All around me are familiar faces_

_Worn out places, worn out faces_

It took a few moments to find Xander's aura. But he wasn't hard to acquire once John had found the fair. There were lots of silver and green auras all around, charlatans and soothsayers playing the rounds of money for a fortune game. John felt Xander's disgust and the auras seemed to link arms. Peter and him were separated. It turned out the fair was a huge event.

_Bright and early for their daily races_

_Going nowhere, going nowhere_

John began sweating. It was difficult with this many auras of malcontent around. Xander's aura kept him calm, but he almost felt that choking was happening near him. Every once in a while, he would see another with the natural gift and they would salute Xander, maybe break into a slight grin. It was comforting. They weren't the ones shouting either. People came to them, not the other way around.

_The tears are filling up their glasses_

_No expression, no expression_

Peter nearly collided with Xander and began shoving a book into his hands excitedly, babbling quite profusely. Since his aura wasn't very adept at picking up human conversation, he was still practicing that one, he did manage to get the gist of Xander returning with the information. He was quite relieved to find that out. Often, his aura was able to protect Xander even if he couldn't always tune the hearing in. Some things were just a mystery.

_Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow_

_No tomorrow, no tomorrow_

John broke his contact with Xander as they moved away from the chaos and he felt a cold compress on his forehead.

"You're burning up. You didn't tell me aura searches were so strenuous."

"I never think about it. Should I be calling you King Ianto?"

"No. Sir will do just fine."

"Oi! That's my name!"

"Don't worry, Jack. I won't steal him away just yet. Say, have you seen Toby?"

"He said something about training."

"Did he say which way or where?"

"He just grunted something about a forest. What is it about this guy, John?"

"He gets the job done, Ianto. He's refreshing and honest. I think under other circumstances, we'd have been..."

"Lovers? Brothers? Friends? Enemies?"

"Complicated."

"Not quite the answer I was hoping for."

"Call me when Xander gets back with his information. I'll be working myself out physically as well as I just did mentally. Thanks for all the hard work, Nicoletta. I promise we'll have a day by the Cardiff Bay before we leave!" She motioned something at him and he returned the sentiment, half a smile and a dimple the only exchange they really needed.

"You look exhausted. Shall I have a cup of coffee waiting for you?"

"Not a half bad idea, but no. I'll just have another No Fear and vodka."

"Sounds like an addiction to me."

The Door rolled back. "You know I'll always love your coffee, Ianto."

"Hazard of the trade, I suppose."

The day was slightly windy and the clouds were listless and turbulent. It wasn't rain that was coming, it was what was brewing. He drove, following Toby's scent instead of his aura. Toby was a master of hiding his aura. John had to bet on his movements, of his aura-like scent more than anything. It was a trail that he teased John with. They both knew this, for ill and good.

_I find it kind of funny_

_I find it kind of sad_

He stood, doing push-ups in grey sweats and a white tank top as the Jeep came to a halt. He moved with a grunt.

"Did you find Xander?"

_The dreams in which I'm dying_

_Are the best I've ever had_

"Yes, they're going to call me when we've got more pieced together."

"You know how I feel about your gift." John felt his knees twitch as he bent, his fingers loosening up.

"It's not as bad as it seems." They looked into each other's eyes.

"Every time you get a bit more exhausted."

"Can't help that." John's shirt flew into the breeze and was snagged by a nearby tree. His hand pressed into Toby's arm as they whispered into each other's ears.

_I find it hard to tell you_

_I find it hard to take_

"I don't need you changing because you feel like being the hero."

"You so worried about it?"

"As a matter of a fact, I am. Men aren't meant for that kind of power without side effect, John. One."

"What do you mean, side effects? Two."

"I don't want you to wake up one day and just have lost it completely because something attacked you. You're the only one of you we've got. Three."

They tussled, kicking grass around as each settled on a favorite maneuver. John felt his head move towards the sky, barely twisting away from Toby's half nelson.

_When people run in circles it's a very, very_

"Don't be so worried. I'm fine."

"Just cool it on the sic-fi power for now. At least until you can recharge without breaking into a fever."

"I can't make that promise."

John went for Toby's ankles, almost for a victory.

"I know. Just had to say it out loud."

Toby's felt John's wrist slide away from his cradle move and Toby felt himself slide away. He bucked John backwards with his hips and found himself flying over John's body, slamming his knees and locking John in.

_Mad world_

But John would not go without a fight. He moved his hands like a snake through Toby's arms of waving grass. The match ended in a draw, Toby's sweat from the bridge of his nose meshing with John's heaving peck. Toby collapsed on top of John.

_Mad world_

"I don't want to lose you that's all."

John moved Toby's head up, hands cupping his chin.

"I don't want to be lost either. I just found what I need."

Toby smiled and the world stilled briefly as they shared a sweaty kiss, Toby's beard tickling John's goatee.

C/N: Yes, that's Mad World by REM (My copy is the Donnie Darko remix I absolutely love). I don't own the song (I'd be partially rich if I did) nor do I own Torchwood (I'd be replacing Moffat as he replaces Davies if I did. I'm actually really excited about the change too). I think that should cover it. Hope you're all enjoying the story so far!


	4. Chapter 4

"There isn't much to tell. I gave him a piece of mind, it was as simple as that!"

Gwen's eyebrow's caught him across from the Hub entrance.

"Making trouble then, John?"

"Yes." Toby's face grinned with impish importance.

"No. A cop just tried to tell me where I couldn't park. Oh, sorry Gwen, a pc told me where I couldn't park."

"So, I guess you told them you were with us?"

John's eyes met Jack, arms folding and leaning against the door frame to his office. "I figured it wouldn't be so bad. After all, you have Torchwood painted across the blooming side of your SUV. I wouldn't say that screams tact."

"That's Jack for you. Always with flair. I remember one time..." Jack's cough caught Ianto's voice before he spilled a little too much.

"Well, you can't just bully the pcs around here. We need to work with them."

"That's a flip, Jack. I'd expect something like that from Gwen."

"He's a work in progress. I only had to think it that time."

Jack grunted as he moved back into his office, shutting his door. Out of the corner of his eye, John watched Ianto retrieve a light cream coffee cup and put Jack's brew within. He moved towards the coffee maker in silence as Ianto worked diligently, with all the romance of a concerto conductor.

"Not to interrupt or anything, but I believe that the Captain and I need some words. May I use your coffee as an alibi?"

"Anyone else would get a no."

"Including Gwen?"

"Most emphatically."

"Promise I won't take him from you."

"I've no fear from it."

"That's good. You're a good man, Ianto Jones."

"I know." Ianto smirked as he handed the coffee mug to John and John smiled warmly back. As he mounted the stairs, a slight fog enveloped through his chest. It wasn't quite fear, a bit more like hesitation but there was this mixture of uncertainty that John had trouble identifying.

There was a slight harshness stemming from the fact that the blinds were open when Jack allowed John's entrance. Jack was fiddling, as its best described, with a sharpened pencil between his fingers, a small mound of paperwork beneath them.

"I'm beginning to think you're a workaholic, Captain Harkness." The response was an annoyed stare. "Not good enough? Okay, how about this? Gee, Jack, I never thought Ianto would rub off on you in that way."

Jack raised his hand in the air. "Just stop, John. It's not worth the effort."

"And this is grade-A material too."

"I'm sure it is. Did Darius leave you with no seriousness at all?"

"And I was wondering if Owen left you without the ability to be anything but."

"That's not fair."

"Oh, come off it Jack. We both know some thing's been bothering you."

Jack took a sip of hot coffee and John noticed his glare beginning to soften. "It's your attitude."

"And what is wrong with my attitude? Would you prefer suffering, cryptic John to me?"

"You're slightly more cavalier than I remember."

"Isn't that the rogue pot calling the avenging kettle black?"

"I've grown. I just don't want to see your team get hurt. You're responsible for them."

"And you don't think I don't know that? Look, Jack, you know the risks of this life as well as I!"

"But do they? Look at them. All the fun and the dating and jokes. It's all a mask."

"A damn necessary mask, Jack. If you don't think I go through my day without worrying if they'll be killed at least half a dozen times then you'd be wrong. But they found me, not the other way around. I didn't post an ad looking for sarcastic, suicidal loonies with a taste for adventure and mysterious circumstances. Mostly because they charge by the letter in Italian papers."

Jack said nothing in return, just stared through his own reflection as he walked toward the window. John followed his gaze from Gwen to Ianto and then back again. "It hurt then, didn't it?"

"More than losing the Doctor or Rose did."

"Ouch."

"That's why I want you to go, disband your team. I'll give you all the retcon you need. We'll find you a job and a normal life somewhere."

John smiled, half aghast and half amused. "Do you think I want a normal life, Jack? Think I could handle that? The problems began to find me even before I knew there were things to go searching after. What happened to turn you into this, Jack?"

"I could lose them."

"You could."

"I can't replace them."

"You'll have to."

"I don't want to."

"It's not about want, Jack. I remember the night before the Gentleman attacked the Hub. Do you remember what you sang to me? Do you even remember the other parts of that song, Jack?"

Jack said nothing, the corners of his mouth turned inward hard to avoid another bout of fresh tears. "You're afraid of being alive, of losing him."

"I'll lose him eventually."

"You'll lose me, too. But you don't offer them a way out, why?"

"Because we both know I'd go searching for them."

"You protect them, Jack. But you can't let them go, even knowing all that you do. It is like

_Someone you have to let in_

_Someone who'll force you to share_

_Someone who like it or not_

_Will always be there_

_A little, a lot._

Sorry I had to sing that at you."

"You've got a good voice for it, though."

"Jack, Ianto chooses what he does on a daily basis. Gwen, well, she has Rhys to keep her more grounded, but she still comes here everyday and follows you."

"She chose not to and it sent me away once."

"And you're going to tell me you never made irreparable mistakes?"

"I didn't say that."

"I'd hope not. I'd have to drop my drink all over all these papers if you did. That's how you'll know I'm calling you a liar."

Jack looked at John, their eyes locked. "Do you know what you've gotten us involved in?"

"No."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"No, you're afraid that I'm right."

"Touche."

John squeezed Jack's arm as he moved back toward the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, the day's research is done and I've promised this girl I know a proper movie night."

As close to normal as we get, that's what John thought. The lights in the Hub had been dimmed and Ianto had made a tactful beeline for Jack when Nicoletta showed him the ice cream, popcorn and rented movie for the evening. No matter what the case or the stakes, Nicoletta and John spent one night a week together recharging their batteries. Often, they ended up using the Jeep's portable DVD system, but tonight they were in the Hub.

Nicoletta's hands dipped into the popcorn every few minutes and nibbled away while John tried to abstain from hovering it in altogether. Her hair was splayed against his chest and her left ear would have heard his heartbeat had she been able to. She giggled throughout the first half of the movie and John tried very much not to love her. It was hard not to love her.

She caught him staring once or twice. And her eyes were caught between being amused and understanding. He wished he could tell her that he wanted to kiss her. He wish they could watch movies without captions. Well, not that it mattered what he wished. It was all fleeting, these wishes. But with her salty hand in his buttery hand, both from their favorite side of the popcorn bag, they smiled and settled in for the night.

John almost leapt up, startled. She was beginning to drowse and would most likely not want to see the ship go down anyways. Jack and Rose had just finished dinner and Jack was examining the gem. But something in John's being pulled him to that gem. He placed her head on the couch and she smiled. John began to pretend he was merely sliding to the floor. She slept and he made a phone call to Xander, whom, John suspected, didn't sleep at all.

By the time Jack and Ianto arrived the next morning, power to the lights and the computers were all moving and she was clicking away. Xander was feeding him bits of information as Peter and Toby ran errands. John was at the epicenter, babbling away to Xander on his cell phone. Gwen entered shortly after and leaned over Nicoletta's chair as rapid-pace technology went to work on a section of yellow parchment from the damning prophecy Torchwood Four was trying to unravel.

"You use so much of our technology that we might need to merge teams, John."

John wasn't paying much attention at the moment. "Look at this, Jack!" He shoved a printout at the Captain and then began walking about the room excitedly, hands flying around and Nicoletta trying to keep her eyes peeled to her screen. She never quite got used to that side of John's personality.

"I always knew that movie was a classic for a reason."

"That's not what I'm saying at all, Gwen!"

"Well, share with the class then."

"Ianto! This is the final piece of the puzzle! Maybe, for now, one last clue to worry about!" Ianto received the pages from Jack and the younger man began to scrutinize them intensely, taking a few seconds between paragraphs to look from John back to the printouts.

"Let's not get too excited, John. Remember, vampires don't breathe, so it's not like air could stop them from getting to a sunk ship."

"That's true, Jack, but you forget about the water pressure at that depth. It would crush their skulls like cans of ale."

"What Ianto said!"

"I say we get excited though." Peter walked through the rolling door confidently, holding various sheets of paper and a conspicuous book in his hand.

"I thought you were down in the archives."

"So, I misspoke about that. What I actually was doing was some recon."

John's eyebrows curved upwards as he took the leaflets. "Well, I don't approve of going without back-up. But this should be enough. Looks like we've only got two to worry about at the moment."

"And Dempsey is sure to have the second."

"She could lead us to him."

"That's what I'm thinking. And you know he's going to have to..."

Peter placed his hand before John's face. "Just stop. We both know you'll protect him. I'll just make a run for supplies before hand."

"Did you stop him before he gave you the speech?"

"You'll be glad to know I did, Xan. You'd be proud of me."

"Only after I get you to babble..."

"Fellas!" Gwen's voice echoed off the walls of the Hub, causing all noise to cease, save for the printer and Myfanwy. "Mind filling the rest of the world in on your plan?"

John and Peter grinned like wild cats who had just found a fish in a trash can. "Evantasol."

C/N: The song is some lines from "Being Alive" and I don't own it. Unfortunately. If you remember the last time (from the cells), Jack was singing the chorus to John and I thought it fitting. You do remember that, don't you?


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a church once, Xander thought. Had was not the operative word, either. Weeds were choking the front; dead grass the hallmark of its creepiness. Vandals had painted over the words St. Augustine and someone had removed two fingers from the statue out front. None had dared go any further.

There was a curse, a feeling about the place, he thought. It was rather reminiscent of Sunnydale. Xander bit his lower lip, that feeling rolling through his stomach again. But self-preservation be damned! Time to soldier on.

The team had been laying this groundwork for a week. Xander and Peter were the most likely candidates and Xander babbled well under pressure, making the other side perceive their own nervousness reflected through him. Peter was more intelligent, granted, but he could ruin a certain ambiance with one swift move of his eyebrow. His candidacy for the world of cult was less. What amazed Xander is that they never compared notes at cult conventions, if there were such things. Disorganized villainy definitely made his job easier.

His backpack contained four items and two hung round his neck. He pulled the strap closer and gulped, only half pretending to let the fear wash over him. All in all, from what John had relayed of Dempsey, Xander had very applicable reason to fear. She was candid and merciless. These were not qualities he was apt to admire. But this was part of his job and Xander wouldn't allow Peter to put himself in that danger. Especially if he needed a medic later, which was all but a possibility.

The entrance was toward the rear, previously used as a storm cellar and then later retrofitted as a fellowship hall and homeless shelter. That is, Xander supposed, until a janitor went stark raving mad one night and sacrificed fourteen adults and two cats to some unknown deity. No one had been able to get much information out of him. Thing was, Mr. Chelton had been blind and this disturbed most of the authorities on the case. No further murders had been committed and the place had closed down anyways.

There wasn't a mighty load of light in the basement. Several tables were set length-wise in the shape of school cafeteria and several words lined the bare walls. People's gazes were shifting about and they clutched to their "sponsors" like made demons. The sponsors said no words but went along praying, or whatever they thought was praying.

Xander received a clipboard from a balding man wearing an almost unbuttoned gray shirt and sat at the first table. He pretended to rummage through his backpack while Davy strolled up to him.

"You made it Tanner."

Xander winced at the sound of his cover name. He secretly thought Gwen might hate him. Who thought up the name Tanner anyways? What was he, a bad nineties sitcom?

"I'm a man of my word."

"Nervous?" Davey's hands made a gesture toward the place. The general atmosphere was creepy, but then again, the bars that Davey sifted through were just as dark and a bit more dingy. Xander bet some of the people here now wanted a drink. "That's normal."

"I've never done anything like this before." Ha! Xander didn't even believe that as he said it. But, he was the best improv cult crasher this side of Western Hemisphere and he made himself believe it.

"Faith is a hard thing to come to, my new friend. But Dempsey is a good woman. A good woman shows us all the way. Did you bring your reading materials?"

Xander sifted through his backpack briefly and brought two slim books out of the pack. "I didn't have much trouble finding the Epistle of Hope, but why bring Atlas Shrugged?"

"For proof. Proof that the cynicism of man is the bleeding, raw wound upon true religion."

"I never really liked Ayn Rand."

"Dempsey disapproves, but uses what she must as well. Time is drawing near. Do you need me to stay with you?" Xander was more apt to say no because it was the truth, but noting the scene from the eyes of the others, he thought it best. Xander Harris nodded and Davey shifted down in the seat next to his.

In any other circumstance, Davey was a nice and normal guy. He liked rugby and some ale, played darts for fun and once had a daughter, now a teenager, going through her rebellious phase. He had been in insurance and mortgages and had never really had any faith growing up. Dempsey had helped him. Xander had almost needed tape not to roll his eyes.

A sound began, at first a gentle and high pitch. There was also a scent that accompanied it, the scent of burning birch wood and apple tree. Dempsey had a very high budget. Apple tree, if Xander remembered correctly, was only indigenous to Virginia. This worried him. He hoped he was wrong. He'd have to call Willow and ask later.

The flute was nowhere to be seen, which worried Xander. Invisible people working behind the scenes could lead to a possible higher body count or worse. And Xander had seen the worse. He liked avoiding the worse whenever possible. He gulped again, which caused Davey to squeeze his hand and smile just a bit.

Dempsey was unfairly beautiful. Her hair peaked naturally in violent, dark ringlets. She was only slightly older than Faith, somewhere between her and Buffy. She was thin but shapely and wore a peasant dress that reminded Xander of something he had seen at the renaissance festival. An invisible breeze blew threw the room and no one spoke as she did.

"I appreciate your participation, fellow travelers. It is not an easy thing to have faith in this day and age. I'm sure you've all read the materials I've provided with the help of my fingers." In response, Davey waved playfully and Dempsey seemed to giggle back at her. Of course, that was as much as an evil entity bearing some sort problematic world ending device could giggle. At the very least, she bared her teeth.

"I have found it better if we get to know each other first before we begin. I'll come around to each person I know and they'll introduce whomever they have met. I do hope before too long that we'll all be friends here at St. Augustine and maybe help this kindly old saint to rise again."

Davey was not first on the list, nor the second. Xander watched from the corner of his eye, trying vainly to multi-task and keep up with Davey, who knew all of his line with rapid and curious ability. He was a good salesman, giving the hope of utopia some meaning to Xander's life from the false facts he had been fed. It was a promise that had nothing to do with eternity yet, but Xander knew it was coming. There was a mysterious it factor yet to be announced.

"Why does she call us her fingers?"

"From what I remember of Christianity, Davey, the body of Christ was often that of the believers and so she liked the term and took it. She is the body and you are the hands. I am the part she is missing." Davey smiled and thought that maybe Ianto wasn't fond of him either. He was up to his gills on information about Christianity, more than he had previously studied or wanted to know for that matter. Well, if Dempsey quizzed him on the different type of Baptists, he could be ready.

Xander felt himself nearly tumble back, but easily shifted his weight as she came by. He knew that was John's aura as he felt her presence and it must have been heavy for him. She had charisma and quick charm that hung about her. It was almost as if there was a low buzzing in his brain, this wonderful low buzzing that made his entire being yearn for rest. Rest, which he was sure, only she could provide.

They exchanged fake pleasantries and then Dempsey moved on. Three tables later and she excused herself momentarily. She returned in five minutes and asked all the fingers to form a hand around her. She was holding the object, Xander was sure of it. It was sleek, something like a scalpel, and made of shiny metal. He could feel the vibrations.

They gathered around her, most crouched or kneeling and terrified. She was aglow in the power of the object and she began to sing. The flute began again out of nowhere. Xander's skin began to crawl. He pretended to fasten himself to his notebook and wrote a message with a special pen. Several yards away, Toby waited in the Jeep, one arm resting on John's elbow while his eyes were closed at the wheel. He was sweating and Toby was forcing him to drink a bit of No Fear every few minutes.

John's mind was beginning to shake. The connection mixed with Dempsey prodding at the protective barrier made John feel violent lashes of pointed pain. John focused a bit harder while the pen finished writing. Xander depressed the button on the pen, and with a click, a tiny camera replaced the pen head. Back at the Hub, Nicoletta relayed the message through the satellite GPS.

Toby grunted. "She has it!"

John opened his eyes. "Let's rock."

Peter and Toby moved quickly, nearly jumping from the Jeep to the ground. The Torchwood SUV sped closer, from about three blocks away at a nearby park, and John followed Toby and Xander closely at their heels. These were the most crucial seconds. Xander didn't have the protection of John's empathetic abilities while he was on the move.

Xander could feel it and gulped. He picked the last book out of the bag and carried it close to himself, over his heart. Inside were two of his favorite portable weapons, but there were too many civilians here to use his collapsible silver stakes on or even to pound with his pole or fists. If anything went wrong, it would be too late.

But it was never too late for Xander. He felt the electricity move through the doorway and ducked as Peter ripped through the room with a lightning bolt. The lights came to life and Dempsey hissed, breaking her concentration with the alien object just briefly.

"This is Torchwood Four. Everyone get out!" John bellowed and looked around the room from the entryway, daring anyone to object. No one moved.

"Tripp! You're in Cardiff."

"Hello Dempsey. Not expecting us?"

"On the contrary. We've been expecting you."

"Evantasol has it, John. He has the flute."

"Hand over the alien tech, Dempsey."

"And what? You'll let me live?"

"No. But you'll have a dignified death."

Her shriek was not as comforting as her polite conversation. Her visage began to change, she was showing her true demonic tone. "You think I'm afraid of a couple of high-tech punks?"

Xander flipped her off with his silver stake, now full size. He aimed for her midsection when she called her hands together and they formed a chain around her.

"You know the nice thing about this alien scalpel, John? They never remember what they've done in the morning. Once set to their forehead, not only do I gain sustenance from their thoughts and control their actions, but I am also privy to their protection! Davey, why don't you show our newest convert what the scalpel does!"

She giggled again, this time manically. The world seemed rooted to the spot as Davey twisted, a large smile across his face. The scalpel came down upon his head and large black gash appeared. He began to stumble forward in Xander's direction.

Toby noted the rest of the congregation sat hypnotized. "They're not leaving, John."

"I know. They won't remember a thing either. This is what we train for. Damn it, where's Jack?"

The sound came from the room beyond and was followed by dust. Jack, Gwen and Ianto entered, piling through the doorway.

"Man! That church is creepy. How is it your churches are so creepy in Cardiff, Gwen?!"

"Not now, Jack!"

"Oh." Gwen pointed to Dempsey, who was now turned with a bemused face toward the gang at Torchwood Three.

"So, more nonbelievers?"

"Oi! Jack! We could use some help! If it's any easier, they're all hypnotized!" John was trying to stave off Davey using a hockey stick he had borrowed from Ianto for defense purposes. No one was sure what kind of weaponry to use and his broadsword seemed like a bad idea. John didn't exactly relish the idea of hacking zombie people to bits, especially if they weren't yet actual zombies.

"That doesn't make it easier, John!"

"Gwen, stop being so bloody polite and shoot them!"

"Yes, Gwen Cooper. Go ahead and shoot the civilians. They invite you to." Dempsey nodded to the crowd and they began moving in unison toward Torchwood Three. She might as well have been sitting in a stadium watching a delightful ballgame.

Apparently, Dempsey had amazing reflexes under hypnosis because he could move and wail with the best fighter. Every time John had him in a corner, Xander couldn't get close enough. They struggled for a solid ten minutes while Toby kept the other members of the hand at bay and Jack struggled with shooting the kneecaps off of civilians and Ianto held them back.

"Don't test me, Dempsey!" Jack hissed to her. "Let them go!"

"I'll make this easier for you, then." She smiled and the lights extinguished again. There were several flashes of intense blue light and a moment where no one breathed. The light returned, courtesy of Peter, and the whole of the converts had black gashes across their forehead. "Do it, Torchwood. Kill them!" She nearly fell over laughing.

"Okay, I've had enough." Toby grunted and began to punch and kick his way toward the stage. Davey fell down, his knee dislocated and Ianto took his cue. He shouldered into the closest converts and Jack brought down his arm against another. They fell to the floor and chaos erupted in the room. John chased three down to a corner, where they fought until the converts nails scratched the word Light from the painted brick of the basement.

Peter grunted and squinted his eye, taking aim above Dempsey's hand to the tip of the scalpel. It was silver, most likely metallic. Peter took aim and suddenly the room erupted in shrieks. Her converts felt the shock waves as did she, but she held and grasped.

"They're in pain already Jack! Just do it!" Ianto yelled and Jack nodded grimly. He began to shoot knee-caps and shoulders, aiming for non-critical wound areas whenever possible and Gwen followed his lead. She created an opening and John, having just smashed the mouth in on his final assailant, took aim with with an empathetic stranglehold.

He found himself bleeding from the mouth as he concentrated. Toby growled and Ianto began to furiously work toward the woman. Mr. Tripp began to feel woozy and noticed, just barely, Xander continuing to hold him up as his sight went.

"You can't destroy me like that, Tripp. I'm already dead."

"Who said I was aiming for you?"

It was with some horror that Xander realized John was aiming for the scalpel in her hand, trying to shake it loose.

"Jack!"

Jack nodded at Xander and launched himself into the two remaining converts, landing a kick at Dempsey's middle as they crawled over him, biting and kicking painfully. Her side felt like brick and cement and Jack howled in pain.

John felt to his knees and screamed. Toby attacked her, meeting the same fate as Jack until blood flowed from his knuckles. Gwen fired twice, the bullets bouncing from the corset beneath her dress and nearly hitting Ianto.

Peter moved closer to Xander with a questioning glance, still trying to loosen her grip. Her hand was melting away from the scalpel it was so boiling and burning, but she held tighter and laughed at the pain. The converts began to rise dangerously and wail once more.

Xander threw a silver stake at her heart, hitting one of the unknown men through the head before landing at its target. She screamed and the scalpel fell. Ianto scrambled for it, kicked her in the jaw as she fell and began to disintegrate, and met Jack, who was already wrapping the object in his greatcoat.

"Stakes. The classics work every time."


	6. Chapter 6

They began to come to, little by little. Each reached gratefully for the offered RETcon from Ianto. A few even muttered about cults as they dissipated back into the shadows. John stared, focused and enraged, on his knees. The blood was drying around his mouth and matted into his shirt. He bit his lip as he struggled to move forward.

"No." Ianto issued the order to John. "You're in no shape to..."

"Ianto Jones, you'd best move!"

"Stop struggling." Toby took over for Xander just briefly. "You're in no shape to try and talk to her." John looked over his shoulder, feeling the sweep of Toby's hair against his forehead and his warm hand on his chest. "You did good, kid."

"But someone, someone has to try and find out where Evantasol is."

Xander nodded, bending down to wipe some blood from John's chin. "Jack will. If anyone is as good as you without empathy, it's Jack."

John nodded hesitantly and watched the proceedings until his eyes refused to stay open a centimeter longer and fell back gratefully into Toby, who exited with him toward the Jeep.

Jack moved purposely as he stood. He watched as her beauty faded and her stone facade fell, bit by bit, into dust. She wasn't enraged and almost laughed at him.

"You humans, so foolish."

"Why is that?" Jack tilted his head in question.

"You'll never find him, never save your precious Earth. There's too many who want what we offer."

"And what is it that you offer, exactly?" Ianto took the position behind Jack and snapped at her.

"We offer shelter from the rain."

"No." Gwen stated. "What you offer is blind ignorance to the stupid."

Dempsey grinned, lines of dust falling from her smile.

"Where is he?"

"Where is who?"

Peter walked up to her and looked into her eyes. "The man with the flute."

"He is...everywhere." She sighed deeply and one final crack fissured halfway down her bosom.

"Oh no you don't." Jack grabbed her head after pushing Ianto one step back. "I may not be an empath, but no one resists the Captain. Now."

He stared into her, using every good cop feeling he owned, "Where is the last?"

"He..." She wouldn't break right away. She struggled and let words swarm in her mind. Dempsey felt her own charisma lose control over him. "He abandons hope."

Dempsey crumbled within the grip of Jack Harkness. He stood grimly, looking at his disheveled clothing and the two merged teams, all in need of care. His thoughts turned to John and it worried him that he wasn't there. Jack moved back outside and found Toby nursing John in the back of the Jeep.

"You left without a word."

"You were busy." Toby grunted, but moved back towards the other side of the Jeep, giving them a bit of breathing room.

"May I?" John nodded and Jack took the seat next to him.

"You were very brave."

"Didn't do a lot of good."

"No, I mean it." Jack patted John's knee. "You didn't give up."

"We don't know where he is. Unless you found something out."

"Just take a second to survey the damage."

"We don't have those kind of seconds, Jack. This prophecy has a time limit..."

"Don't they all?"

"Hand me my drink, Jack." John took a swig of his No Fear and then a second.

"You'd best go easy on those."

"They keep my empathy pathways clear. I didn't like them at first, but now I keep myself stocked at all times."

"You're shaking. John, when was the last time you had water?"

John just stared at him. "You trying to take care of me again, Harkness?"

Jack sighed. "If you only knew."

John let his head hit against the opposite window. "At least we all survived."

"Good attitude."

"Jack, your hand is still on my knee."

"I know."

"Toby wouldn't approve."

Jack moved his hand. "Are you and him?"

"That's a good question."

"John, did you know when I first kissed Ianto, it was to save his life?"

John tilted his eyebrow in questioning. "Your point?"

John was surprised to feel Jack's lips brushing his own. He wanted to stop and push him away half-heartedly. He didn't want to jeopardize Ianto or Toby's feelings for Jack and himself. But, in a way, he had been waiting for this. He needed this.

Jack's lips spread fire onto his tongue. It felt, oh god, how it felt. There was something almost cherished about those lips on his, the taste of cinnamon gum moving through the shared air and deep into the throat. John's world spun and his eyes closed. He found himself humming and relaxing. He found himself no longer shaking and feeling refreshed and revitalized.

By the time he opened his eyes, Jack was at the wheel of the Jeep and they were alone. "What happened? Where's Toby? The rest of the team?"

"Don't worry. We're all going back to the Hub together to regroup. You won't get your fight tonight, but we'll work on the last piece of the puzzle...together."

John didn't have the strength to argue. "I hope Toby..."

"It was explained. Truth be told, I couldn't register any feeling from him."

"Crap." John's hand moved to his chin, finding it surprisingly clean. Toby had taken care of him. He tried not to love without reason, but Toby was giving him too many reasons to just feel.

There were silent stares all around the conference table at the Hub. No one seemed to want to break the tension or discuss anything, or to even leave. There was a sense of resolution coming, and yet a foreboding danger. Ianto passed around drinks with normal efficiency, but took a seat between Peter and John afterwards. He sat across from Jack and Toby stood behind John.

Gwen cleared her throat. "What do we do?"

"Go after him."

"But how, Xander? How can we go after a weapon that's not a weapon versus a vampire who feeds off of the willing?"

"Since the beginning of time, the darkness came. That's how the prophecies always seem to begin. But the good always win. There will be a way to win."

"You can't sacrifice yourself for this, John."

"And why not? They are my powers."

Toby grunted. "You won't find him. He knows about you. He'll mask his signature or at best, give us a trap to fall into."

"I agree with Toby. You need rest, we all need rest and clear heads."

"Besides, that was rather cryptic. Abandon hope, indeed."

Still, no one moved.


	7. Chapter 7

Her name was Hope. Ianto looked through the file. She was the same age as Jasmine and had those same distant eyes. There was a sadness to them, even through the smile of her grade two photo. Her hair was straight and blond, tied back by a headband. She was average looking, save for her eyes.

Ianto was so engrossed in the photo, he almost tripped over Gwen on the way to the coffee machine.

"Seen a ghost, Ianto?"

Her wry smile snapped him from his reverie. "No, I just think I found her." Gwen's eyes went wide as she took the file. "Died of mysterious circumstances, parents involved deeply in some mystic church. This happened two years ago. But what makes this different is the circumstances of where."

"Ianto, this isn't possible."

"But it is. The Harcourth Gallery was owned by her aunt. This is where the murder occurred, in the middle of twenty critics at a gallery opening."

"Let me guess. None of them saw a damn thing."

Ianto turned as Gwen jumped. "John, you're back early."

"I don't think two in the afternoon is early, Ianto. Unless you're talking tea time."

"We're Welsh, not British."

John shrugged and reached for the file. "Oh, no you don't." Gwen plucked the file away and moved to the other side of the desk she was currently standing by. "We don't want you going out half-cocked after this lead. Not until we're sure."

John sighed. "You know, Gwen, I am a grown man. I am capable of making my own decisions."

Gwen just folded her arms and Ianto moved as John shot her fake daggers with his eyes. He couldn't be mad long at someone whom he knew was right.

Jack coughed, as if on cue. "Care to carry this over to the conference room?"

John followed at Gwen's heels and the masses began to assemble into their chairs, almost second nature. "Jack, why didn't we investigate this Hope murder?"

"Because Susie covered it up. Apparently, in the week before you joined the team, there was a lot going on we didn't know about." Ianto winced as Jack finished his statement. Yes, there had been a lot going on the team hadn't known about.

"So, what's the plan then?" Xander scanned the faces of the room, some determined and others in the midst of thought.

"I say we start at the gallery. Is it still open to the public, Ianto?"

"No, the aunt had it closed the day after the investigation finished."

"Well, it fits."

"One rule." Jack stared around the table, daring anyone to contradict him. "There is no going off alone. There are no heroics here. This game is played by a set of rules we don't fully understand. Don't wander off by yourself. And if there's any self-sacrifice; by God, I'll find another Risen Mitten. That's a promise." Ianto and Gwen shuddered. John reluctantly nodded after glaring at Jack for a second.

Nicoletta was strangely insistent she drive and signed to John nearly the entire way there. She drove like Jack and John was torn between focusing on her free hand and on the road. Admonishing him this way was definitely getting his attention.

The air had a strange tinge to it, something beyond unwelcome. Nicoletta stayed behind the wheel with orders that she have check-ins from the pairs every ten minutes. Ianto and Jack headed to a nearby window. Xander and Peter snuck around the vehicles to the rear entrance and the loading dock. Gwen, John, and Toby went toward the front door. John gulped as Toby craned the bolt cutters and the chains dropped with a nearly deafening clang.

"I'll be right behind you." Toby looked into John's eyes until the younger man nodded. He moved quietly back to the Jeep to retrieve his weaponry, or at least, John assumed he did. Gwen and John moved forward into abject darkness. They could hear the sound of the others moving around outside. So much for stealth.

"Can you feel anything, John?"

"Evil."

"Correct, Mr. Tripp. Quaint little notion of evil you have." The eyes glared at him in the darkness. They were the same shade as tempered steel and just as volatile. The lights began to dance on one by one until it was clear there were only three people in the main room of the blank gallery. John shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to hide his fists vainly. He grit his teeth.

"Evantasol."

"We finally meet. I must congratulate your team, Mr. Tripp. You've done me a world of hassle and good ridding me of my inferiors. I'd say cocktails are in order, are they not?"

Gwen gasped as the flute reached his lips. Instantly, five waiters appeared behind him with various beverages. One more note and they were gone in an instant.

"So, you've mastered it then?"

"It did take some, but a higher intellect like mine understood that. Like you understand. Or will, I should say."

John's gaze didn't waver. "What do you mean?"

"Where has Ms. Cooper gone?"

They were alone in the room. John shook himself, remembering that the will of flute worked just as well as any perception filter. It was in that second, in horror, that he noticed Evantasol swallowing the flute. He watched the trail of the item move into the evil man's stomach and shuddered.

"What do you plan to do, Evantasol?"

"Destroy you all and continue my harvest."

"I can't let that happen."

Gwen's weapon rang out into the night and John turned to see her, still rooted to the spot she had occupied. But her eyes were on her bullets. They had stopped inches short of the older vampire, hunched over on his stone throne.

"How amusing of you, Ms. Cooper. How amusing." He smiled and she shivered. His smile was filled with disgust. She concentrated on it so much that she didn't even notice the psychic chains he created. John was dragged back near the wall trying to free her. Her head slammed with a sickening thud and John moved back towards the center of the room.

"Let her go! This has nothing to do with her." Her breathing was becoming more labored the tighter the chains got. He prayed she would stop struggling; John knew that only made it worse. Her eyes were fixed in hard anger on the vampire.

"Correction. You've gotten them involved. This is the death trap of your own plotting." He sneered and John heard Gwen yelp. Where were the others?

"Sylar!" John's attention turned toward Peter and Xander, entering from the right side of the room.

"Get out of here! It's a trap!" John's arms waved about, but it was too late.

"They see me as they wish." Evantasol was amused, to say the least. Peter shot a few bolts of lightning toward the throne and then charged forward. He was stopped to kneeling and Gwen was shocked with the power of Peter's lightning. Xander rushed forward, but was blocked just as well as Peter.

There was a feeling coming into the pit of John's stomach. He knew how to stop this, but he had promised Jack. He'd have to break that promise to save Gwen. He'd break that promise to save them all. He closed his eyes, barely hearing Ianto and Jack rush to Gwen's side and try and free her. Ianto felt his hand slip through the chains, but could not release them. Her skin was becoming more pale and her lips further blue every second. John shivered, preparing himself.

"Stop this!" John didn't register the shriek. All he did was focus on those steely grey eyes. They met him in an instant and he froze on the spot. John did not scream, did not have the will. He saw his teammates, his friends, his lovers. They hung like portraits against the walls and over the rafters. Dead, limp bodies. Even the immortal Jack Harkness, caught in the loop and unable to rise.

John let anger surge through him and he felt his muscles brace as he fought. Meanwhile, Nicoletta heard the gunshots. She gulped, fearing the worst, but watched Toby re-enter the building In her purse, she reached for the small magnum pistol with her special bullets. She did not like weaponry or field missions. She felt more in control and at home in front of the computer. She reluctantly moved from the Jeep when no one called to check-in.

The sound of the doors gave John a chance to break free from the vampire's twisted reality. He swung his arms around and gasped at Nicoletta, trying frantically to sign as she moved to shoot at Evantasol. The first shot failed and then her eyes turned and John's face fell grimly. Her arm shook as she fought. Her gun moved and trained itself on Ianto and then on Gwen, swinging back and forth.

Her teeth gritted and she began to sweat as she fought. John moved toward her, each step searing his legs as though they were filled with cement. His joints ached with loss and he found a tear trickling down her cheek. She tried to nod but failed. An invisible wind moved through her ringlets. His hand traced the line of her hair as she fell. Nicoletta became the last casualty.

John turned in anger and screamed. Much more powerful than he imagined, John wiped out every vision and block with his emotion. He freed Gwen and turned the key on the door to Peter's prison. But no one moved. He was insane with grief. Even a blind man would have seen it.

Evantasol stood up to his full height, several centimeters higher than John. But John pushed forward, not intimidated. His eyes began to change colors and sharpen. There was the faintest hints of blood vessels moving across his face. The ache within him continued and became several flaming points of pain as they battled. John gained the upper hand through sheer will. And only based on the fact that the vampire's ability was set in his eyes. The manufactured empathy jewels began to short, but the dark vampire held the gaze and fought. Another sneer caught his lips.

The distraction was enough. Toby dropped from the vent above him, having watched some of the proceedings, and Ianto winced as the villain's head nearly seemed to cave in. He wavered just momentarily and Toby thought he would have turned back. But he just moved and fell to the floor. Not a single person in the room breathed.

John fell in grief and crawled on his knees to her. He was sorry he had dragged her into this mess. Sorry that she was caught in his cross hairs. She deserved a white knight on a marvelous steed. John Tripp was not that man. John Tripp, however, could cry. And cry for her he did.

They began to move slowly and collect the vampire's body. He was alive, but would be captured until Torchwood could figure out where to put him. Grief and rage swept over John as he cradled Nicoletta in his lap, not daring to move or disturb what warmth was left in her skin. He felt a familiar hand.

"Don't touch me! You...you...fag!" The words held all the sharpness of a knife against Toby. He moved away, turning back towards his work. He showed no sign of the pain.

Jack was more persistent, even amidst John's half-hearted punches to his chest and the stinging tears against his blue shirt, swamped in his greatcoat.

Silence at the Hub. It was becoming a friend, someone welcomed over insolent insults or petty exchanges. They said not a word. John followed Ianto to cells and he stayed, sitting, sneering at the creature. Toby left the Hub. No one knew if he'd come back.

But he did come back. With Ianto's permission, he headed down to the cells. In one bag was the vampire's meal. In the other was a No Fear for John. Jack had driven Gwen home and Ianto suspected something was wrong. The three were left in the Hub but even Ianto was blocked from what Toby was doing. He used a remote converter from the Jeep to loop the feed on the camera.

Toby moved quickly into the bowels of the Hub. He had taken extensive tours of the place, forgotten corners where even Ianto couldn't scrape Lisa's blood from. He found a plasma torch in one room and produced it now, setting it before John. The thunk of the canister against the ground woke John from his stupor.

"You, you came back. After what I said..."

"Think it's the first time I've been called a fag in grief?" Toby wouldn't allow John to apologize.

"You don't have to stay."

"If I didn't think it was right, I'd have left already. I don't stay where I'm not needed." John looked from Toby to the torch to the sedated Evantasol. "We don't have much time."

"I want you out of my Hub." Jack snapped in fury, but it wasn't hot. The words were picked carefully and distinctly.

"Jack, you can't mean that."

"Ianto, I mean every word of it. You have five minutes to leave. Don't take anything with you and don't come back."

"Why Jack?! Because I had the guts to do what I needed to?"

"No. Because your cowardice cost us everything."

"He's a danger, Jack!"

"He had rights."

"You're doing a pale imitation of Gwen right now."

"Hey..."

Jack raised his hand. "Say what you want about her, but don't you dare cut her down."

John shook his head in anger. "I neutralized a threat. The old Jack would have applauded it. It was the smart thing to do. The right thing to do. He'll never speak. He'll never see outside of what he needs to. The world is safer for it. The smell of burning flesh was a small price to pay."

"Your hands are dirty."

John looked to Xander. "You agree with him then? You all agree with him? I'm not the bad guy here!"

"Three minutes, Mr. Tripp. Do you need RETcon?"

John looked around the room at the blank or turned faces. "No. No, Jack I don't." The words were cold. He turned to walk away from the room, but just briefly. At the doorway, he addressed the group. "Look at yourself, Captain, at the weakness that will destroy you. Your heart isn't as strong as it would like to think. I'd hate what blood would be on my hands if someone hadn't made a decision like mine. Maybe I'm not as good as you, but you set the bar too high for the rest of us. Secrets, lies, standards, what does any of it matter as long as they are dumb and happy? Is that it? You're strong enough to know how weak you are now. She's brought this down upon your heads."

"And one day, your head shall be brought down upon you for your so-called strength."

John moved toward his bag, waiting for him almost in anticipation of the end. He heard Ianto's light steps coming. "He'll cool down."

John rummaged on his desk, shoving papers in and grabbing for his coat in haste. "I don't want him to cool down, Ianto. There are just some things..." John stopped, refusing to let the waves and walls of emotion move him.

"Don't go like this."

"I have to. I have to before I forget how he was and replace that with how he is. Ianto, I had to."

"No, John. You chose to. I can't say whether or not I agree."

"One day, you might have to make a decision like mine then." John felt the strap of the bag move to his shoulder. He tried not to quiver and he felt that one traitorous tear against his cheek.

"I've done what I thought was right. Hindsight is twenty twenty."

John smiled wearily and hugged Ianto. "Thank you, for everything. Tosh would be so proud of you. I'm proud of you. Ianto Jones, you are the miracle in this world and I'll miss you more than anything."

"You spoil me."

"Someone has to." John's glance turned to the conference room. "Take care of him."

Ianto nodded and watched John leave, the rolling cog door moving abruptly as his shoes moved sharply down the hallway.

Outside, the sun was rising and heat was moving off of the tiles. It was unpleasant and glaring. John tried to glance out towards the sea as he lit a seldom needed cigarette and took a shaking drag from it. There were no sounds of gaiety or any other people in front of the Welsh waterfall. He looked for the next point in his journey, following the sun with his eyes. The honk of the Jeep met his ears.

John slid into the seat next to Toby, who was at the wheel. "You don't agree with the rest of them?"

"It's like I said while I was in there." There was a moment's pause as each man considered the other. "Well, where to now John?"

John pulled a red notebook from his bag and revealed a few choice notes with the uv light attached to the back of his pen. "Scotland. Torchwood Two might have the answers we seek. There's one more gem to find. And Archie might be more apt to see things my way."

Toby quirked his eyebrow. "Archie?"

John Tripp nodded and watched Toby's arm as it moved toward the clutch. In a moment, the engine revved and soon they were gone into another Cardiff sunset.


End file.
